Play No More (Player Next Door sequel) ✓

11 | Sock

And we were all up here, so who was down there?

Maybe Austin had left the door open and a very strong wind slammed it shut. Or maybe it was the culprit back for more...

"What's the point of birthing children when they won't help with the groceries!" my mother's voice screeched through the house.

I exhaled a sigh of relief and walked to the banisters, not realizing that everyone followed. My mother was lugging two plastic bags from the door to the kitchen. She was in her suit after a long day at work.

When she saw the three boys with us upstairs, her expression turned to shock.

"Three handsome devils," she admired, "If only my daughter told me she was having guests over, I would've dressed up a bit more. How embarrassing."

Luke responded first, walking down the stairs to greet her, "Hey Mrs Ripley."

"Pst! Luke, what are you doing?" I hissed.

We had a murder mystery to solve up here!

"I'm being polite to your mum," he hissed back.

Ah yes, boyfriend priorities. Chad and Austin hopped to it and followed suit, though Chad was a little wary to approach my mum. He wasn't used to her yet.

"We'll help you with your groceries," Luke offered, taking the heavy bags out of her hands.

Bottles clanked against each other and Austin peered into the bags. There was a lot of alcohol.

"Throwing a party, Mrs R?!" he asked.

I think she called it 'groceries'.

"I'm replenishing the pantry," she answered, ignoring the faces Flora and I pulled. "By the way, there's a very old lady standing outside the house. I don't know if she needs some help or if she's-"

"Gloria!" Austin almost slapped himself for forgetting. "I have to go!"

"But we have a..." I didn't want to say the words in front of my mum.

"A what?" my mum zoned in on us suspiciously.

The boys immediately grabbed her bags and used them as an excuse to flee.  They escaped to the kitchen.

"Cheese!" I heard Austin exclaim as he saw a block of cheddar between the prosecco and the rosé.

"Millie Ripley, answer me now. What do you have and what are you hiding from me?" my mum gripped my wrist, showing me that she was not going to let this – or me – go until she got answers.

"Is someone sick? Have you committed a crime? Are you pregnant? Did you get an ab-"

"OK, this is escalating!" I gasped, "Mum, please don't freak out but there is a bloody basketball jersey hanging on my doorknob."

"So you're having sex?"

"What?! No! Why would you say that?!"

"In my day, a sock on the door meant people were, you know, getting frisky."

I may have just died of embarrassment. I know the boys were listening in on this.

"And you thought a bloody jersey is how we say it now?!" I exclaimed.

She answered simply, "Kids these days. A lot of you are twisted."

Glad to see how much faith some adults have in our generation.

"Mum," Flora intervened, calming things down since she was the favored child, "I think you should come see this."

Nooooooooo!